Draftbook Drabble 10
by CMW2
Summary: IMPORTED STRAIGHT FROM LiveLoveWRITE- Tenth in a series of hopefully many;CMW2/Trumpetnista: Draftbook Drabble #10-(Fitz, Olivia, all Gladiators plus David and Jake, OOC but nothing too extreme, ensemble friendship fic, Office AU, one sided Olake, pre-Olitz becoming Olitz, first time, NSFW);Rated for language and sweet spice at the end;11th in my 2014 SSS Project


**Author's Note:****The good news is that we've got new furniture for free. The bad news is that due to my dad's stubborn (cheap) refusal to hire movers, I've got a strained back and a bruise on my foot that looks like a lunar eclipse. Such is life. I got a new bed out of the deal so it balances out. ****Yet, now, that new bed may be ruined because the Detroit Metro area decided to have a flash flood this fine Monday evening. CMW2 is now uprooted from her basement HQ (which I was planning to do anyway, after my big sister moved back out) and quite annoyed. Fortunately for all of y'all out there, when I'm in pain, ill, or annoyed, the Muses are popping and willing to play.**

**I haven't forgotten about my other fics, I promise. I'm a little stuck in my drafting for them but I'll work through it soon. Here's another D.D. for you guys to enjoy in the meantime and hopefully, I'll be back in a dry saddle by the middle of the week with the other stories. Hopefully…**

**CMW2/Trumpetnista: Draftbook Drabble #10-(Fitz, Olivia, ****all Gladiators plus David and Jake,**** OOC but nothing too extreme, ****ensemble friendship fic,**** Office AU, ****one sided Olake,**** pre-Olitz becoming Olitz, first time, NSFW)**

**Words from the Gladiator in a Hoodie: One thing I love the most about this fandom is the creativity within it. Gif work, music videos on YouTube, graphics, fanfic…I came for the show and stayed for the Gladiators. Earlier today, I right click saved some fabulous TG-KW as Olitz mashups from ****lovepollution**** (the same artist that inspired the mini fic that has become Bugs and Legal Briefs) and inspiration hit me like a truck, particularly because of a delightfully inappropriate comment about a certain type of parody and I wanted to take that scenario and run with it. Let there be fanfic. Enjoy the story! Mad Love, Jam, and Power Drills, ~*Trump*~**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_I don't know why he keeps trying. It's pathetic."_

"_Yes, you do. We_ _**all**_ _do. She may be a piece of work but she's a knockout. She'd put all those models to shame if she'd take that updo of steel down and crack a smile…"_

"_Ballard's an idiot for continuing to ask her out. You're both idiots for gawking at her ass when she walks by. Every man drooling over her in the complex is an idiot because she's already taken."_

"_Oh,_ _**really**_? _By who?"_

"_Fitz. They're close friends and I know that he likes her. He's got a major crush."_

"_Crushes don't mean shit if she doesn't like him back and even through some bizarre miracle that she did, Fitz would never make a move. After that disaster with Mellie Vaughn, he's gun shy."_

"_Wouldn't you be if your fiancee of 2 years cheated on you and ran off to Bali with your blood brother the day before the wedding?"_

"_Of course I would…I still can't believe that Drew did that shit though."_

"_Mellie Vaughn is a Siren that lures men to their doom, even good men like Andrew Nichols. Olivia isn't like her. She's nice. Guarded but nice. She'd be good for Fitz. She'd love him right."_

"_You know, ever since you and Quinn hooked up, you've gotten soft on us man. It's fucking disturbing."_

"_I've always had a soft side. Quinn just helps me show it easily. Mark my words. Fitz and Olivia are going to hook up and stay strong. They'll be good together."_

"_Aw, come on, Huck…Fitz wouldn't even spend so much time with her if Cyrus didn't keep pairing them up for projects."_

"_His Wonder Twins…they get it done, though. There hasn't been this much job security around here since Clinton was in office and it's because of them. Fitz does the Marketing, she does the PR dirty work, and Cyrus does the schmoozing and hustling to reel in the big fishes. As much as it pains me to agree with David…"_

"_Fuck you too, Harrison."_

"…_he's right. Olivia Pope's got a Chinese Wall of ice around her and the fact that Fitz can work with her on the regular without losing it is impressive. I was paired up with her for a project a couple of years back and she reminded me of every demanding and difficult teacher I had from Pre-K to Harvard. I did everything she told me to do because I was scared that she'd stab me with a letter opener."_

"_She wouldn't do that. She's not a monster. She's a good person. Guarded but good. Here comes Ballard, finally. He looks pissed."_

"_Did he __**have**__ to slam her door so hard?"_

"_You know how he is. He's a fucking drama queen."_

"_He's an idiot."_

"_You said that already."_

"_It bears repeating. I have a date with Quinn later so I'll be the D-Squared tonight."_

"_Fine. Harrison and I will drink enough for you. So, now that you've gotten your ego destroyed, Jakey, can we leave now? It's 2 for 2 night at WingDings. Abby's holding a table for us."_

"_I'm a vegetarian."_

"_There's a Lebanese place next door, Huck. You'll be able to get your rabbit food. Are you ready to go now, Ballard or do you want her to literally kick you in the balls instead of verbally?"_

"_Shut the fuck up, Rosen. I was just trying to be friendly."_

"_You were trying to get laid, asshole."_

"_That, too. Look, I feel sorry for the Ice Queen, honestly. It's lonely at the top and it's not like anyone around here will go near her other than Grant, your girlfriend, Huck's girlfriend, and Mr. Beene. Speaking of Grant, is he coming?"_

"_**Fitz **__and __**Olivia**__ are working on the latest PR/Marketing cycle for Cytron Electronics so no. They're expanding into electronic voting machines and if all goes well, they'll be implemented in time for the elections in November."_

"_Lovely. Another way for elections to be stolen. Scrape the salt off of your ass, Ballard and let's go. I'll get us there and none of you sons of bitches better throw up in or on my car later."_

"_Nah, I'll just throw up on you instead."_

"_Fuck you, David."_

"_Fuck you too, Harrison…"_

* * *

She knew what the consensus was about her.

She was a cool customer, endlessly professional and competent. She ate, drank, and slept her work. She was one of the first ones to arrive and usually, the last person to leave, if she left at all. One conspiracy theory was that she actually lived in the building and had an alcove like a Borg Drone.

It would explain a lot. She was 26 but she acted like she was 56. She never went out with the rest of her contemporaries and if it wasn't about work, she didn't talk to anyone. Her face was always set in neutral and her voice was steely, near monotone. She wouldn't know a good time if it bit her in the ass (an ass that was frequently, crudely appreciated around the water cooler…) and a man would freeze to death trying to kiss her, much less fuck her.

Olivia Pope was dead inside: brilliant and gorgeous but dead inside…

"Hi."

The consensus was anything but the truth. Olivia was just as human and fallible as everyone else. She was capable of feeling all sorts of emotions and she had feelings to hurt. She just didn't share them as easily as everyone else. She didn't really know how. She had grown up with two parents who while they gave her everything she needed materially, starved her emotionally. They hadn't been neglectful to point of CPS stepping in but there was an undeniable distance between the Popes. She had learned early on not to expect more than what they could give her, that parents who hugged her frequently and kissed injuries better didn't belong to her.

She had learned that letting people see and hear how she really felt opened her up to destructive criticism and personal attacks so she had decided not to.

It had helped her through her childhood, her education, and had served her well professionally. At 26, she was the youngest department head in the complex and one of the best in her field. She was a go-to in the PR circles and had even been asked to consult with internal issues abroad, most notably in Buckingham Palace for a month the year before.

The Queen was a sweetheart.

"Hi, Fitz."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Why?"

"Olivia, you're crying."

Frowning, she checked her reflection in the full length mirror and sure enough, silent tears were sliding steadily from her doe eyes. Fitz Grant III joined her in front of the mirror and she watched as he pulled a white handkerchief out of his suit jacket's inner pocket. His thumb raised her chin and she let her eyes drift to half mast contently as he wiped her tears away. Before she gave into the impulse to let him hold her, Olivia moved away from the mirror and sat down behind her desk.

Fitz Grant III wasn't like the others, pardon the cliché. Initially, he had been wary of working with her. She had a Reputation for dedication and precision, dedication and precision that she demanded from not only herself but anyone working with her. She didn't put up with anyone's excuses and she would get the assignment done by any legal means necessary, even if it meant that her partner(s) ended up reprimanded or out of a job. Like her employers before her, Cyrus Beene used her to "weed out the weak" and typically, an assignment with her was a punishment, a sign to prepare a resume.

Fitz had been assigned to her on his first day.

The Ice Queen vs. The Silver Spooned Senator's Son.

People didn't expect him to make it to lunchtime.

He had made to lunchtime and beyond, their professional partnership lasting 8 months and counting.

As was their close friendship. The close friendship had been unexpected. However, Fitz not only appealed to her on a professional level but on an intellectual one as well. He could match wits with her easily and they had a way of synchronizing their thoughts, their actions so well that it was like they had become a single unit. She found herself looking forward to seeing him and would share lunch hour together. They'd work as they ate but they would also talk, really talk.

He was easy to talk to…

"What's wrong, Liv? I saw Ballard in the corridors earlier with an accounting report for you to go over. Did he say something to you?"

"He brought me the report. He also wanted to see if I'd join him for the upcoming long weekend. He has a lakefront vacation home upstate. I said no. He pressed the issue, insisting that whatever I had to do for work could wait. I said a firmer no and asked him to leave. In response, he remarked he'd go away but that it was such a shame that someone so young and beautiful insisted on being so frigid, so much of a workaholic. He said that I was wasting the best years of my life for a job that's not even guaranteed to last and when I was ready to stop being so difficult, he'd be waiting for me. I told him that he'd be waiting for not only the rest of this lifetime but the next. I made it clear that he wasn't my type and I have no intention of ever settling for him romantically or sexually. I also made it clear that the only way that he'd be able to touch me intimately is if I were impaired in some way and then, I would make sure he remained in prison for the rest of his natural life. He didn't take too kindly to that grim implication but instead of pressing the issue further or trying to physically hurt me, he called me a crazy bitch, stormed out of here, and slammed the door behind him like a 3 year old before leaving with his friends."

"Ignore him. He doesn't know anything about you."

"No one does around here. Not really…and whether I like it or not, his words_** do**_ have a ring of truth to them."

"Olivia, he's trying to play you. He's done these mind games before with other women around the complex. He finds or manufactures a weak spot and exploits it slowly until he's seen as the White Knight and the solution to the problem. Once he gets laid, he drops them like a bad habit. It's disgusting but since he's good at his job and everything sexual has been proven to be consensual at the time, HR and Cy can't do anything about him. He's an opportunistic son of a bitch of the worse sort. Trust me, I share DNA with one. Don't listen to him."

"It's just that my former fiancé used to say things like that to me all of the time, as did my high school paramour. They called me cold, distant…dead. But, I'm _**not**_. I'm really not."

"You're a good person, Liv. Those guys just didn't understand you."

"I know that I have questionable taste in men and I ended the relationships for good reasons but…if they're all wrong, then why do accusations like that still have the power to hurt my feelings? Why do I feel the urge to change myself? Is it a spiteful urge or is it something else? And…am I really that bad to begin with? I don't think I am but I'm completely biased…"

"Is it just Ballard's words that have you feeling this way or has it been an ongoing thing?"

"Both. I'm confused, Fitz. What would you do?"

Another thing that Olivia appreciated about him was the way he thought before he spoke. He didn't do it in a malicious, manipulative way but in a way that let people know that he cared.

"…at the end of the day, it's your life to live the way you want to. You're the one who has to be able to look in the mirror and not wince. If you want to change, then you should do it because you want to, not to prove someone wrong or to make yourself more palatable to the masses. For what it's worth, I think that you're fine just the way you are."

"That's because you're strange." she deadpanned with a small but genuine smile curving her lips.

"Your face is strange!" he replied playfully, continuing their inside joke gamely.

"_**Your**_ face! Shall we get started?"

"Sure. I saw an Apple commercial the other night and it gave me an idea…"

_**/**_

**2 Days Later…**

"These clothes and shoes are very nice, ma'am. Much nicer than we usually get. Are you sure that you want to donate them all?"

"Absolutely. Although my wardrobe no longer suits my goals, I don't want to be wasteful and like you said, they're good clothes. My grandmother once told me that the right piece, the right accessory, the right pair of shoes can make a person's outfit and day. It can give…confidence. Confidence is priceless."

"You've got a good heart, young lady. I hope you reach all of your goals."

"Thank you, sir. May I have a receipt for my tax records?"

"Of course. Here you are, ma'am."

"Olivia, please."

"Then, I'm Nathan. Thank you so much for your donation. Have a blessed day."

"You, too. Goodbye. Drive safely!"

The van belonging to the local Salvation Army store pulled out of her driveway and Olivia went back inside to the master suite's walk in closet. She had decided to hit the ground running with the decision to change, starting with her wardrobe. There had been many suits, pair of heels, and blouses. Black, white, and neutral shades dominated the scene. A peach blouse with ruffles and a still plastic covered scarlet red dress that she had picked up on impulse had been the only colorful things, discounting the contents of her underwear drawer. Her underwear drawer was full of color, bold patterns, and fun…

"Wow. You really did it, Liv."

"I did, Abby. It was hard but I did it. I kept enough to get by for work but now I need to not only replenish my wardrobe, I need to do it with color, boldness, and…_**fun**_. I want to look fun. I called you and Quinn here because you two know how to do it without looking unprofessional or trashy. And you're my friends. Friends shop together all the time and I know that you'll make sure I look good."

"You already look good, Liv but when we're done with you, you'll look like a Goddess. This is gonna be awesome as hell. I love makeovers!"

"Is this all the makeup you have, Olivia?" Quinn asked while opening up the small pencil box she kept her cosmetics in. One black liner pencil and sharpener, a tube of mascara, and an unopened mini palate of eye shadow in navy blue rested within it.

"Yes. I don't do much other than liner, mascara, and chapstick for work. Although, I do like red nail polish for my toes."

Lifting the hem of her umber broomstick skirt, Olivia showed them her black espadrille sandal clad feet and the cherry red pedicure she had done herself.

"Okay. Well, I can see that you know how to dress and dress well. We just got to add the fun and color. Jewel and earth tones, shades of red, purple, and pink, maybe some soft blues…" Quinn listed while pulling out her iPhone to plan their route.

"Gold, definitely gold. Lots of gold!" Abby chimed in while taking Olivia's white trench coat off of a hanger.

"I like gold and my favorite color is robin's egg blue. I'd like to find a work appropriate piece in that shade, if that's possible."

"It's definitely possible. It doesn't hurt that a certain Marketing head's eyes happen to be that shade of blue, does it?"

"It doesn't hurt at all but this ongoing transformation isn't for him. Fitz said to me on Wednesday Night that I'm just fine the way I am."

"He did?"

"And he meant it, too. I want to do this for me. I want…I want to start opening up for me."

"And if a fun makeover happens to be the first step that gets all 6'2 of Fitz Grant III on top of you, then so much the better."

"Underneath me, Abby. Underneath me…and perhaps behind me, too…"

_**/**_

"Ballard's got a place across the way. I think it's that boat like one on the hill."

"If he does, we'll know soon enough. He's allergic to staying in his lane."

"Truer words have never been spoken."

"When will Abby and Quinn be here?"

"With the traffic, they should be here by lunch time and they're bringing Olivia Pope with them."

"They are?"

"Yeah. Apparently, she called her and Quinn for a girl's day out yesterday and Abby invited her to join them up here for the rest of the vacation. It's cool with you, right?"

"Of course. The more the merrier."

"I have a feeling that if it was anyone but the Ice Queen with them, you'd be pissed."

"**Do not **call her that. Her name is Olivia and she's just as much of a person as the rest of us. You and the others will treat her with respect or you'll be used as firewood. I mean it."

"Damn…Huck was right. You really do have feelings for her."

Instead of confirming or denying the statement, Fitz took another drink from his tumbler of Glenlivet and let his eyes look out over the deep blue waters of the lake. Memories of taking in this same view as a child entered his mind and he sighed, turning back towards the house.

Built in 1935, it had been the crown jewel of the Oleander family and passed down through generations through the daughters. Fitz's mother, Caroline Oleander-Grant had inherited the house in 1979 and it had become a second home to him when Big Jerry was down in DC. It was made for a big family. Made of local wood and stone, the house had 8 bedrooms, 5 ½ bathrooms, a finished basement, a large kitchen and dining room, and a lot of wide open space for children to run. There was a small orchard on the land and a large garden that became a source of fresh produce and spices. A large deck housed an 8 person hot tub and a circular fire pit in the middle, surrounded by loungers. The property was maintained by private contracting and by 74 year old Forrest Enders and his wife Rebecca, along with their children and grandchildren…

"It's going to be interesting having her here with us. I hope she doesn't keep her distance like at work."

So did he…

_**/**_

The impulse had come out of nowhere and instead of ignoring it, Olivia acted.

Fitz yelped as the scoop full of ice cubes went down his shirt and she jumped over the porch rail while he recovered. Tucking and rolling off the lounger she landed on, she came up running and giggled as he chased her off the main patio, much to the cheering surprise of the others. The grass felt good on the soles of her bare feet and she yelped as his arms snapped around her middle, lifting her up into a fireman's carry. Halfheartedly, Olivia struggled to get down before resting her cheek against his back as he walked the rest of the way to the dock. Anyone on the water or with a high powered telescope would get a clear picture of her rump high in the air.

It was a good thing that she had picked a long sundress to wear made of thick snow white material or everyone would be getting a fashion show of her new panties. Getting to the last third of the dock, Fitz stopped and eased her onto her feet. His lips were pursed in an exaggerated pout and Olivia looked up at him angelically.

"Is there something troubling you, Fitz?"

"You put ice cubes down my shirt, Livvie.", he huffed accusingly.

"Yes, I did." she replied unrepentantly, smiling at the familiar nickname.

He had started calling her Livvie during one of their late nights working. It had slipped out and instead of bristling, she had answered to it easily. The next day, he had said it again during their elevator ride to the office and she had bid him a good morning. The last person who had fondly called her Livvie had been her maternal grandmother and the nickname was wrapped in the warm and happy memories she had of her.

Janette Lewis had been the one to tend to her emotionally and hadn't been afraid to go up against her parents' rigidity in her defense. She had been diagnosed with stomach cancer when Olivia was 17 and had passed away shortly after she graduated from high school. Her estate had been left solely to Olivia, unable to be touched by Maya or Eli, much to their shocked anger. The estate had enabled her to move out of her parents' home and cover her living expenses as she got her education at Georgetown.

Her mother, in the rare times that Olivia spoke to her, called her Livvie but it was in a condescending way, reeking of artifice, just like her overtures of love and affection. At least with Eli, what you saw and heard was what you got. To him, she was Olivia Carolyn. She was his wayward child and nothing she did would ever satisfy him so pretending to love her for her was a waste of time. Simple as that.

When her grandmother called her Livvie, she felt respected and loved.

When her mother called her Livvie, she felt disrespected and hated.

When Fitz called her Livvie, she felt happy.

When Fitz called her Livvie, she felt respected.

When Fitz called her Livvie, she felt warm.

When Fitz called her Livvie, she felt wanted.

When Fitz called her Livvie, she felt…horny.

Deeply, near unbearably, potently _**horny**_.

Hell, all Fitz had to do was stand near her and he had her feeling some kind of way.

Contrary to popular belief (perpetuated mainly by her very few exes or unwanted suitors like Ballard), Olivia was no stranger to desire. She had felt it before, felt that fire in her belly that needed to be tended to but this was different. She ought to be used to "different" when it came to the man, by now…

"That wasn't very nice."

"Haven't you gotten the in-office memo? I'm an Ice Queen. I'm _**the**_ Ice Queen. Ice Queens aren't kind to peasants. Not unless there's a direct benefit for them."

"So, I'm a peasant?"

"What else would you be to me, Fitzgerald?"

"While a Queen can and will thrive without a King, a consort to warm the boudoir at night is nice, especially when it comes to the business of securing an heir to the throne."

"…are you volunteering your services?"

"That depends. Are you accepting me?"

Mouth suddenly dry, Olivia looked away from him and out over the water. The new wardrobe and the openness the Group had shown her had increased her confidence tenfold but was she really ready for this sort of change? Fitz was a good man and a worthy man but she was afraid to fail with him. Failing with Lucas Middleton in high school and failing with Edison Davis had left their wounds but those wounds had healed eventually. To fail with Fitz would ruin her in so many ways…

She would lose her best friend.

She didn't want to lose her best friend.

Yet, losing her best friend wasn't set in stone.

Fitz already knew who she was and how she behaved. He knew who he would be getting and had liked her just as she was before. That wasn't to say that he never fought with her because he did. Although, she had a reputation with a capital, cringe causing R, Fitz was no shrinking violet himself. One of his greatest advantages was the way that people underestimated him, wrote him off as a nonfactor because then…oh, then. He would blow people away. He could destroy egos with a clever turn of phrase and had a knack for sniffing out bullshit. He would get it done and tell you to go sit in the corner and color if he felt he needed to as easily as he drew breath. He was strong willed yet so gentle in the areas where it mattered. She liked that…

"You're overthinking, Livvie."

"I can't help it."

"I know. Just go with your Gut. It's never failed you before."

Her Gut said to kiss him.

So she did.

And she never wanted to stop.

_**/**_

"Livvie?"

After their Kiss, she had quietly gone back inside and despite the urgings of the rest of the Group, Fitz hadn't followed after her. His heart and libido screamed at him to do so but his mind reminded him that Olivia was in a time of transition. She was vulnerable and he did not want to take advantage of her. When they kissed again, when they made love for the first of hopefully many times, Fitz wanted her to be absolutely sure. He _**needed**_ her to be absolutely sure that it was him that she wanted because while he had been able to recover from Mellie's actions with Andrew, the same thing happening with Olivia would ruin him…

"Look at me, Olivia."

Her amber sienna gaze went from her cherry red pedicure to his. She was sitting on the end of his neatly made bed, her right index finger tracing the swirling gold star pattern on the navy comforter absently. Her white sundress had been replaced by a satin white nightgown held up by gossamer thin straps and even now, one had fallen to her right tricep. Her hair was down and the onyx coils called to his fingertips, as did the silken finish the moonlight gave her sepia toned skin. She looked angelic…

"Why are you here, Olivia? Tell me what you want."

"You."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I want to be with you. I want to be your partner. I want to be your friend. I want to be your lover. I just…I just want to be with you. I came here to be with you if you'll have me…"

Crossing the distance between them with sure steps, Fitz kissed her rawly and Olivia moaned into his mouth, nodding and grabbing handfuls of his black pajama shirt. Cupping her face, he pressed soft kisses to her trembling lips and her eyes were heavily lidded with desire, blazing and sure. Her left leg hooked over his hip and a surprised huff of laughter escaped him as he found himself firmly on his back.

"Will you have me, Fitz?"

"_Yes."_

"Will you keep me?"

"_As long as you want me to, Livvie."_

The straps of her gown were lowered fully and Fitz gently tugged at the falling material, freeing her breasts. Fitz sat up and took a budded nipple into his mouth, caressing the other with soft fingertips. Olivia shivered and held him to her, her moans soft and demanding as he suckled. Feeling his head begin to spin, he pulled away for air and she leaned away from him enough for her hands to go to the front of his shirt. Instead of trying to undo them one by one, the small buttons went flying as she literally ripped his shirt open…

_**/**_

Each kiss, each caress, each movement inside her felt like home.

_**He**_ felt like home.

In her previous relationships, sex was something that was expected, an objective for her to accomplish. She would take physical pleasure from the acts (to a point, Casanovas her exes weren't…) but there was no emotional fulfillment. Even when Lucas and Edison told her that they loved her, she felt nothing tangible.

With Fitz, she felt everything.

"_Look at me…look at me, Livvie_…"

Olivia did so and she could feel her nails dig into the skin of his shoulder as Fitz began to add speed to his deep thrusts inside her. She shuddered with delight and let her foot trail up and down his calf as she met him halfway. This was what she wanted. This was what she needed. She wanted to be with this man. She wanted this man in her life, in her bed, in her arms for as long as she could keep him.

Keeping him forever would be quite nice.

"_**Fitz**__…Fitz, I… I'm g-gonna…_"

"_That's it, sweetheart…mmm, yes…come for me…let go…_"

"_**Yes!**_"

_**/**_

**The next morning…**

"Stay here. I'll get it."

"Okay."

"You don't talk much, do you, Huck?"

"Not really. Be sure that you check who it is before you open the door. Bad people are everywhere and if something happened to you, Fitz would lose his mind."

Nodding in agreement, Olivia set down her mug of tea and crossed the kitchen to the French doors. Looking out of the window above the sink, she spotted a canary yellow jet ski tied to the dock and turned the small mirror hanging there to see who was on the deck.

"It's Jake Ballard. What's he doing here?"

"He has a vacation home across the lake. The Office Christmas Party was at his place last year. It was a nice house but you could tell that he was trying too hard."

"Hm. Well, let's see what he wants, then."

She pulled open the left door and the look on the man's face was priceless.

"Olivia? What are _**you**_ doing here?"

"Abby and Quinn invited me up for the long weekend and Fitz was more than happy to let me stay. Did you need something, neighbor? A cup of sugar, perhaps?"

"You said that you were going to take your notes on the Cytron pitch home with you so you'd be prepared for Tuesday's presentation. You said that you were staying in the city."

"I had planned to but my circumstances changed. Jake, I really should thank you."

"_**Thank**_ me? For what, exactly?"

"Although your tone was disrespectful, your words to me on Wednesday night was just the catalyst I needed to make some needed changes in my life."

"Like having sex with Fitz Grant?"

"We were actually making love, Jake but yes, that's one of them. Another was being more extroverted with the people around me. I also did a complete overhaul of my wardrobe, which helped me to muster enough confidence to approach Fitz. To be honest with you, I've had feelings for him since the end of his first week at the complex but I didn't know how to express them or if he was even open to the idea of me expressing them. After all, I don't have a very good reputation amongst our peers when it comes to love matters…or being human in general."

"Olivia, I'm glad that you listened to me but when I said that you should get out there and loosen up, I didn't mean that you should become a sexual conquest to a Grant man."

"No, you just wanted me to end up being _**your **_sexual conquest, you opportunistic cad. And for the record, Fitz isn't like his father or the depraved Grant men that came before him. He's a good man. He's _**my**_ man and he's worth 12 of you. Now, is there something that you needed or are you just going around saying good morning to your neighbors?"

Instead of replying, the visibly fuming man turned and walked away. Seconds later, he was back on his jet ski and heading back across the lake swiftly.

"I didn't know freshwater waves could be so salty…and petulant."

"He's an idiot."

"I know."

"Thank you for not sleeping with him."

"My standards will never be that low, Huck. Even if Fitz and I don't work out, my standards will never be that low."

"You two will work out. I'm going back to Quinn, now. There's more hot water in the kettle if you want some tea."

After Huck withdrew back to the finished basement, Olivia exited the kitchen and ascended the main staircase. Turning to the left, she went back through the door to the master suite and took him in. Fitz was standing at the large picture window, gloriously nude and he had his eyes closed against the brightening daylight. Pulling the dark blue button down she had used to cover her bare torso over her head, Olivia came up behind him. Her arms went around him in a tender embrace and he sighed…

"I heard what you said to Jake."

"I meant what I said to Jake. If you were anything like the Grant men before you, I would've shown you the door the second Cyrus left on your first day. I wouldn't have bothered with you unless forced to and I certainly wouldn't have…last night wouldn't have happened."

"Did you really have feelings for me by the end of the week?"

"Yes. You impressed me. You were brilliant and industrious and unafraid to challenge me, even when you were wrong…"

"I _**wasn't**_ wrong."

"Yes, you were…I liked your warmth. I…I still like your warmth…"

Fitz turned around and she smiled into his kiss, cupping his face. His hands slid over the plane of her back before going possessively to her behind. The pink panties that she had put on were pulled down and Olivia jumped up, wrapping her limbs around him as he walked to the bed. She was laid down roughly and she pulled him down on top of her, playfully wrestling him for the top.

"It seems that you've got me at your mercy, milady…be kind to your loyal subject?" he inquired as she pressed firm palms to his pecs.

"While my heart is still quite frozen, there is a great amount of tenderness within it for you, Noble Fitzgerald."

His rebuttal was lost in a pleasured, near tortured moan of her name.

God, he felt so good inside her.

If she had her way, he would be feeling very good inside her for a very long time.

And Olivia Carolyn "Ice Queen" Pope always got her way.


End file.
